


Naruto Running for Your Lover at 12:30

by Cryptid_Yeti



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, He just only identifies as male in this fic, I couldn't decide if they were supernatural or not so take it whichever way, Its tagged M/M but Im a firm believer in gender fluid Crowley, M/M, This is really Crowley centric I'm sorry, crowley is a dumbass in love, its short ops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptid_Yeti/pseuds/Cryptid_Yeti
Summary: Crowley prides himself in his ability to tempt his boyfriend Azirphale. However when said temptations (Tik Tok) start getting more attention than himself drastic measures must be taken.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Naruto Running for Your Lover at 12:30

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrs_ZombieOctopus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_ZombieOctopus/gifts).



A. J. Crowley had made a horrible mistake. It wasn’t a mistake because it caused others trouble--he always did that on purpose, thank you very much--it was a mistake because now he was here, Naruto running through the kitchen.

In order to figure out what events had led up to this moment we have to go back quite a bit.

This story starts with Crowley’s very bad, no good, horrible mistake; he had thought his boyfriend, Aziraphale, would be able to resist the temptations of TikTok. This was a miscalculation because now whenever they were hanging out Aziraphale would always be scrolling through the cursed app on his phone. While Crowley did pride himself on tempting his boyfriend into many things, he did not like it when those temptations got more attention than he did. Even if Aziraphale laughed and looked so soft while scrolling, even when he lit up and whacked Crowley’s arm to show him a TikTok, even when Aziraphale would snort at a stupid one before rapidly double tapping. (Okay so it was extremely cute; Crowley wasn’t blind.) But the fact of the matter still stood: Crowley wanted attention and TikTok was taking that away.

That still didn’t explain why it was 12:30 at night and Crowley was Naruto running across his kitchen. The second part was that this new TikTok trend had been going around involving an 80’s song and Snapchat messages. Crowley had gotten it into his mind that he should recreate it for Aziraphale.

They do say if you can’t beat 'em’ join' em’ Crowley had thought while picking up the black, sleek, and definitely some brand name YOU’VE never heard of phone after he had eaten dinner and flicked through his contacts. 

**HellSpawn:** ima send you some stuff on snap

 **HellSpawn:** dont open it twerp

 **Angel:** :( 

**HellSpawn:** wait no I take it back stahp

 **Angel:** heheh

 **HellSpawn:** yOU KNOW WHAT

 **HellSpawn:** whatever just don’t open it 

**Angel:** okie :) 

With confirmation that Aziraphel would not ruin his plan, Crowley switched apps and stared at the lyrics. 

‘Last night I had the strangest dream’ 

Easy enough, Crowley had a bed. He walked upstairs and rested his phone on the night stand nearby. With a few clicks the timer was set and Crowley face-planted into his silk pillow. Only after he heard the shutter noise did Crowley move. Propped up on his elbows Crowley began to get to work. In about 6 minutes he had created a Snapsterpiece. Well, as much as one can make when there’s only one pen size and few colors to choose from. 

The result: Crowley’s face buried in his pillow with the background looking like a starry sky and a dream bubble. Crowley hadn’t been able to keep his snicker in. This was dumb and frivolous but the thought of Aziraphel’s bell-like laughter spurred Crowley into clicking send. 

The next line took a bit longer to figure out what to do.

‘I sailed away to China’

“What does that mean,” grumbled Crowley but, after a minute or two of thinking, he settled on taking a picture and drawing to make it look like he was riding across the waves. This time it had taken a few more shots to get correct. The drawing also took longer to complete. 

‘In a little rowboat to find ya’

Crowley stared at the lyrics. Then he stared at the cardboard box that had held a recent delivery from Amazon. A box that was now vacant. 

If Crowley lived in a world where snakes did not exist, the animal he’d have the strongest connection with would most definitely be the house cat. However, Crowley did live in a world with snakes. Rather than leap into the box with the joy only a cat can muster when leaping into an empty box, Crowley slithered into it. He tucked his legs underneath him as much as he could, clicked the button, and then pretended to row. After drawing in two oars he added the lyrics and clicked send. This shot hadn’t taken that much work but getting the damn oars to line up was an actual nightmare. He honestly had been considering giving up but Crowley had already sent the first two and was in too deep to crawl his way out of the cringe now.

‘And you said you had to get your laundry cleaned’

Well A. J. Crowley was sure as hell not artistically talented enough to draw a whole ass washing machine so down the stairs he jogged. 

Crowley’s bathroom was plain in that it didn’t have a lot of things in it but by no other sense of the word. The bathroom was all slick, black tile with white and gold accents. A ridiculously fancy shower with no knobs was pressed into the corner and got more intimidating the longer you looked. Along with the shower, Crowley’s bathroom housed his washer and dryer. The pair of washing machinery somehow managed to exude the type of snobbery most rich couples visiting quaint little towns had. (The feeling that they didn’t really know why they were there or what they were supposed to do but that they definitely had more class than you did.)

The only thing Crowley had forgotten about his pretentious bathroom was that there were no ledges to place his phone upon. Anywhere. If Crowley tried to take a selfie in front of the dryer the black would just blend into the black and the point would not be made. So with a groan, Crowley left the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with tape. The phone, which had been left on the washing machine, would have begun to sweat if it had pores. Crowley approached the phone with a gleam in his eyes as he ripped off a piece of tape.

“You know I would apologize but you’re just a phone and I can always get a new one,” Crowley said, snatching the phone up. 

It had taken some finagling and quite a lot of tape as Crowley’s phone was very slick, and seemed to be attempting to wriggle out of the tape, but eventually the phone was secured to the wall with an obscene amount of tape. Now came the hard part; clicking start, dashing over to the washing machine, jumping on top, and looking as though he had been effortlessly lounging on it the entire time. All within 3 seconds.

This time it took a lot longer. The photo needed to be retaken until Crowely was satisfied with the smug smirk on his face that he always wore. Well attempted to wear; the first few photos had been panic-filled as he tried and failed to scramble onto the washer. (But Aziraphale didn’t need to know about those.)

When Crowley had finally looked at the clock he realized he had gone too deep. It was now 11:30. Crowley had wasted an hour of his life on this. But then Crowely began to think about Aziraphel’s soft laugh and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes whenever Crowely did something just for him, and he kept going.

“Fuck it,” Crowely muttered to himself, trying and failing to wipe the lovesick smile off of his face. The type of smile reserved for those made fools by cupid but are alright with it.

Crowely had to spend 20 more minutes ripping the tape off his phone and trying to remove the leftover residue. After he had carefully cleaned his phone he moved onto the next segment. 

‘Didn’t want no one to hold ya’

Crowley rolled his eyes as there was absolutely no way his angel would ever refuse hugs, so this line wasn’t as important. Even so, he rested his phone on the table against the wall and pretended to reach out for a hug. It was supposed to be easy but it took an annoying amount of time because 3 seconds suddenly felt a lot longer when you had to stand still. Half of them were blurry. The other half had gripped Crowley’s sense of perfectionism and shaken it like a chew toy. Finally Crowley had a photo he was happy with, carefully adding heart emojis and painfully cute gifs before that too, was sent off. 

‘What does that mean?’

Crowley tried to come up with something stupid but the specific kind of stupid that would get him a kiss. His mind had begun to get foggy at this point and it wasn’t until after he had sent the lackluster selfie sporting a large amount of question related stickers that he wondered if he had any good ideas left.

The finale was coming up; the reason as to why Crowley was skidding through his kitchen in expensive cashmere socks like a TV show character. Crowley was getting antsy at this point, so the next line --

‘And you said’

\--got very little attention. Just a blurry photo of Crowley shooting finger guns with the song lyrics. 

‘AINT NOTHING GONNA BREAK MY STRIDE’

Here it was. The line that was infused with the pure, ridiculous energy from the 80’s. Crowley ignored his clock insistently telling him that it was 12:30 and much too late to be moved by the spirit of Matthew Wilder as he opened one of the kitchen cabinets and set up his phone. 

He started the timer, dashed out of frame and then ran back in with his arms flung back and his head ducked down. The problem this time was getting the photo blurry enough. Running too quickly meant he was out of frame by the time the camera went off, and running too slowly meant he looked dumb and like he had just been holding the pose. Starting farther away so he could run more quickly ended up being the best solution. (There was a lot more slipping involved, though, as cashmere is not known for its traction.) 

Twice Crowley almost ended up barreling into his plants (who already had panic attacks with nothing but a single glance from Crowley and now had to deal with the stressful idea that their owner might knock them over and then blame them for the mess of potting soil around the flat). Eventually, Crowley was satisfied and he himself even laughed when he saw the blurry image of him zooming across the screen.

‘AINT NOTHING GONNA SLOW ME DOWN’

In the TikToks that Crowley had watched of this trend (for scientific research only) they all had yet another blurry photo of them running. However, seeing as Crowley was not another human scuttling about on the app, he felt a tug of spite to do better than the low lifes making thirst traps in desperate hopes of views. Crowley’s ego also demanded more of him so he set upon the task of capturing the perfect leap across his kitchen for the final photo. As previously mentioned Crowley held a strong affinity to cats, unfortunately for the people living below Crowley’s flat that affinity did not stretch to his ability to leap through the air with grace and ease. Rather, he had the grace of a snake who had been hurtled through the air. 

(Crowley definitely did not have bruises from the effort that would be ridiculous.) The final product featured a slightly blurry Crowley with one leg forward and one back, the panic in his eyes thankfully hidden by his sunglasses. 

Absentmindedly Crowley cracked his neck as he sent the final photo before switching to text Aziraphale.

 **HellSpawn:** there

 **HellSpawn:** it hath been done 

**HellSpawn:** open it

Clicking back to Snapchat, Crowley only had to wait a few moments before he saw Aziraphale’s Bitmoji pop up in the corner. He sneered slightly; those blasted things were damn creepy. The discomfort was nothing compared to the shock and fear that gripped him as cursed words appeared under the first of the photos, though.

**Angel has taken a screenshot**

“No no no no no no,” hissed Crowley, frantically tapping at the keyboard.

 **HellSpawn:** STOP 

**HellSpawn:** YOU HEATHEN 

**HellSpawn:** BLASTED ANGEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING

**Angel has taken a screenshot**

The words appeared after each photo. If Crowley had been thinking ahead he probably would have realized this was going to be the most likely outcome, but love makes fools of most, especially fools who had pined for as long as he had. 

But all of the panic and embarrassment was swept away by the next two texts he received.

 **Angel:** hOW COULD I NOT??? It was magical, perfection

 **Angel:** Thank you dear <3

And with that Crowley couldn’t help but let his shoulders relax as a smile slipped onto his face and he left out a sigh. It was worth it because nothing could beat the happy, warm thrum in Crowley’s chest that Aziraphale had liked the stupid, funny pictures. 

**HellSpawn:** it was nothing

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic, blah blah blah, but its main reason for existing is my loser fiancé Reggie. It's loosely based off events that took place after I convinced her that joining Tik Tok was definitely a good idea. Spoiler alert it wasn't we spend way too much time there. Anyways, this is for you ya beautiful bastard (even though I made you edit it) you should write more, you even got me writing with your writing. Writing no longer feels like a real word... OH WELL. Take this yEET.


End file.
